


Weather Through It All

by afteriwake



Series: Love Is Like [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Annoyed Molly Hooper, Breakfast in Bed, Caretaker Molly, Caretaking, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Fluff, Living Together, Molly Cooking, Sick Molly, Sick Sherlock, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock gets Molly sick by being his usual self, but it’s different this time because they live together...a fact Molly reminds him of as she takes care of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagsyB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagsyB/gifts), [MissClaraOswinOswald](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissClaraOswinOswald/gifts).



> So this fic was originally meant to be for another series, but it had been so long since I updated this one and I realized I hadn't written a sickfic for it yet that I decided to write it for this instead! This prompt (" _caring for each other while ill_ " from [this list](http://penaltywaltz.tumblr.com/post/137274126169/nonsexual-acts-of-intimacy-select-from-the)) was claimed by **MissClaraOswinOswald** for my Sherlolly claim in January and IMolly Madness Month, so I hope you all enjoy!

The situation they found themselves in two weeks after Molly got settled was all Sherlock’s fault. It was something he was willing to admit to and she was more than welcome to blame him for. He said that in all his time living with John he was absolutely stubborn about keeping any symptoms of a cold or flu to himself. So when he came down with the cold he had now, he tried to keep himself secluded and simply keep the symptoms to himself.

But he wasn’t used to sharing a bed with someone since John had had his own room. And so when Molly got sick, he caved and decided no matter how ill he felt, he would take care of her.

Twenty-four hours later, she’d had enough.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes, _go to_ \--” She broke off her tirade to hack up a lung, or at least that’s how it felt. When she was done she turned her watery eyes towards her boyfriend, who was hovering behind her in the kitchen with two quilts draped over his head that he was pulling closed against his chest. She softened as he gave her a puppy dog look. “Go to bed. I will bring tea and porridge in but I can’t make it if you’re following me around like a puppy.”

“We should--” Now it was his turn to cough. “We should get one.”

“A puppy?” she asked, moving to the stove. Her fever was so high she was sweating in the yoga pants and camisole top she was wearing. She knew she should get under the sheets and quilts soon but they needed sustenance and tea and really, if _she_ did it the kitchen might remain in one piece. “I could get used to a puppy.”

“I think a puppy would be perfect for keeping feet warm.” He shuffled over towards the sink. “If I knew where there was a puppy to get...”

She groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s already with Mrs. Hudson.”

“No. Lestrade said he knew a sergeant who had one. He brought it up to John but they didn’t want it. I said I might be interested.” He went into a coughing fit then and Molly moved backward, gently pushing him backward. “What?”

“Go. To. Bed.” Molly turned away from the food on the stove and coughed herself. “The sooner I can take care of us the less miserable we’ll be.”

“You’re miserable?” he asked.

“I _hate_ being sick,” she said, beginning to sound irritated.

Sherlock nodded and then began to shuffle out of the kitchen. “Two puppies!” he called out as he exited the kitchen, and despite herself, she smiled. If he _really_ wanted two puppies she _supposed_ that would be okay. She loved all kinds of animals, to be honest; if her other landlord had allowed dogs she may have gotten a small one to keep Toby company when she found Toby. 

It seemed in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to leave. Two weeks here and really, Baker Street already felt like home. She hadn’t expected it to, not so quickly, not so much. But she felt comfortable here, sharing space with Sherlock. If this was all they ever had, she would be happy enough with that. She knew it deep in her bones that living like this would make her happy for the rest of her days.

Well, maybe living like this without the sickness part. She could do without that.

Once she got their breakfast and tea done, she got it all on a tray and carried it to their bedroom. Sherlock was sitting on the bed, both of the quilts wrapped around him, and that was when she realized one of them was the one off the bed. Well, she supposed she really didn’t need it anyhow. She set the tray on the bed and then picked up the tea she’d made for her and took a sip. It was really too hot for her but it made her throat feel better. “I’m going back to sleep after I eat,” she said.

“Want a quilt?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Too hot.”

He pulled his hand out of his quilt wrapping and reached over towards her, placing the inside of his wrist on her forehead. “You have a fever.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she murmured under her breath before she had some more tea.

“Just trying to help,” he said with a pout, pulling his hand away.

Her expression softened, and she leaned over, peeling the quilts away from his face and kissing his cheek. “I’ll take some cold medication in a bit,” she said. “And you can keep all the quilts, plus I’ll snuggle.”

“That will help,” he said. He reached over for a bowl of the porridge and then took a spoonful. He blew on his spoonful and then ate it slowly. “This is better than John’s,” he said.

“I’m glad,” she said, giving him a small smile.

“We should have it more often on cold days, when we have the time,” he said before taking another bite.

“I’ll make it, as long as I’m not under the weather,” she said.

“I _am_ sorry,” he said, setting his bowl in his lap. “I just am used to being alone and...suffering through it until it’s over. John never managed to get me to change, and I still have trouble remembering that you being here means it’s similar but different.”

“We’ll work it out over time,” she said, reaching over for his hand and squeezing it. “There’s going to be missteps, but we’ll weather through them.”

“Like these colds?” he asked, looking at her.

She nodded, starting to answer before she started coughing. When she was done, she had some more tea before she spoke. “Like these colds,” she said, getting a smile out of him before he let go of her hand to pick up his bowl of porridge again. They would get through the ups and downs of living together, she knew. It might not always be easy, but they would be happy enough. She would make sure of it.


End file.
